THE  FRINGES 

OF 

THE  FLEET 


D 

581 

K52 


JJD\ARD  KIPLING 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE 
FLEET 


Books  by  Rudyard  Kipling 

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THE  FRINGES 
OF  THE  FLEET 


BY 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 


Garden  City  New  York 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COIVIPANY 

1916 


g>\^ 


Copyright,  1915,  hy 
RuDYARD   Kipling 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign  languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Auxiliaries 

1 5 

II 21 

Submarines 

1 39 

11.     ! 59 

Patrols 

1 83 

II 103 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/fringesoffleetOOkipl 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE 
FLEET 


In  Lowestoft  a  boat  was  laid, 

Mark  well  what  I  do  say ! 

And  she  was  built  for  the  herring  trade. 

But  she  has  gone  a-rovin\  a-rovin\  a-rovin\ 

The  Lord  knows  where ! 

They  gave  her  Government  coal  to  burn, 
And  a  Q.F.  gun  at  bow  and  stern. 
And  sent  her  out  a-rovin\  etc. 

Her  skipper  was  mate  of  a  bucko  ship 
Which  always  killed  one  man  per  trip. 
So  he  is  used  to  rovin,  etc. 

Her  mate  was  skipper  of  a  chapel  in  Wales^ 
And  so  he  fights  in  topper  and  tails, 
Religi-ous  tho'  rovin",  etc. 
3 


4        THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Her  engineer  is  fifty -eight. 

So  he's  prepared  to  meet  his  fate. 

Which  aiuH  unlikely  rovin\  etc. 

Her  leading-stoker's  seventeen. 

So  he  don't  know  what  the  Judgments  m^an. 

Unless  he  cops  'em  rovin',  etc. 

Her  cook  was  chef  in  the  Lost  Dogs'  HomSy 

Mark  well  what  I  do  say. 
And  I'm  sorry  for  Fritz  when  they  all  come 

A-rovin',  a-rovin',  a-roarin  and  a-rovin\ 

Round  the  North  Sea  rovin'. 

The  Lord  knows  where  1 


I 

THE  AUXILIARIES 

The  Navy  is  very  old  and  very  wise. 
Much  of  her  wisdom  is  on  record  and 
available  for  reference;  but  more  of  it 
works  in  the  unconscious  blood  of  those 
who  serve  her.  She  has  a  thousand 
years  of  experience,  and  can  find  prece- 
dent or  parallel  for  any  situation  that 
the  force  of  the  weather  or  the  malice 
of  the  King's  enemies  may  bring  about. 

The  main  principles  of  sea-warfare 
hold  good  throughout  all  ages,  and, 
so  far  as  the  Navy  has  been  allowed  to 
put  out  her  strength,  these  principles 
have  been  applied  over  all  the  seas  of 

6 


6        THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

the  world.  For  matters  of  detail  the 
Navy,  to  whom  all  days  are  alike,  has 
simply  returned  to  the  practice  and 
resurrected  the  spirit  of  old  days. 

In  the  late  French  wars,  a  merchant 
sailing  out  of  a  Channel  port  might  in 
a  few  hours  find  himself  laid  by  the 
heels  and  under  way  for  a  French 
prison.  His  Majesty's  ships  of  the 
Line,  and  even  the  big  frigates,  took 
little  part  in  policing  the  waters  for 
him,  unless  he  were  in  convoy.  The 
sloops,  cutters,  gun-brigs,  and  local 
craft  of  all  kinds  were  supposed  to 
look  after  that,  while  the  Line  was 
busy  elsewhere.  So  the  merchants 
passed  resolutions  against  the  inade- 
quate protection  afforded  to  the  trade, 
and  the  narrow  seas  were  full  of 
single-ship  actions;  mail-packets.  West 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET        7 

Country  brigs,  and  fat  East  India- 
men  fighting  for  their  own  hulls  and 
cargo  anything  that  the  watchful 
French  ports  sent  against  them;  the 
sloops  and  cutters  bearing  a  hand  if 
they  happened  to  be  within  reach. 

THE   OLDEST   NAVY 

It  was  a  brutal  age,  ministered  to  by 
hard-fisted  men,  and  we  had  put  it  a 
hundred  decent  years  behind  us  when 
— it  all  comes  back  again!  To-day 
there  are  no  prisons  for  the  crews  of 
merchantmen,  but  they  can  go  to  the 
bottom  by  mine  and  torpedo  even 
more  quickly  than  their  ancestors 
were  run  into  Le  Havre.  The  subma- 
rine takes  the  place  of  the  privateer; 
the  Line,  as  in  the  old  wars,  is  occupied 
bombarding    and    blockading,    else- 


8        THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

where,  but  the  sea-borne  traffic  must 
continue,  and  that  is  being  looked 
after  by  the  lineal  descendants  of  the 
crews  of  the  long  extinct  cutters  and 
sloops  and  gun-brigs.  The  hour 
struck,  and  they  reappeared,  to  the 
tune  of  fifty  thousand  odd  men  in 
more  than  two  thousand  ships,  of 
which  I  have  seen  a  few  hundred. 
Words  of  command  may  have  changed 
a  little,  the  tools  are  certainly  more 
complex,  but  the  spirit  of  the  new 
crews  who  come  to  the  old  job  is 
utterly  unchanged.  It  is  the  same 
fierce,  hard-living,  heavy-handed,  very 
cunning  service  out  of  which  the 
Navy  as  we  know  it  to-day  was  born. 
It  is  called  indifferently  the  Trawler 
and  Auxiliary  Fleet.  It  is  chiefly 
composed  of  fishermen,  but  it  takes 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET        9 

in  every  one  who  may  have  maritime 
tastes — from  retired  admirals  to  the 
son  of  the  sea-cook.  It  exists  for  the 
benefit  of  the  traffic  and  the  annoy- 
ance of  the  enemy.  Its  doings  are 
recorded  by  flags  stuck  into  charts;  its 
casualties  are  buried  in  obscure  corners 
of  the  newspapers.  The  Grand  Fleet 
knows  it  slightly;  the  restless  light 
cruisers  who  chaperon  it  from  the 
background  are  more  intimate;  the 
destroyers  working  off  unlighted 
coasts  over  unmarked  shoals  come,  as 
you  might  say,  in  direct  contact  with 
it;  the  submarine  alternately  praises 
and — since  one  periscope  is  very  like 
another — curses  its  activities;  but  the 
steady  procession  of  traffic  in  home 
waters,  liner  and  tramp,  six  every 
sixty  minutes,  blesses  it  altogether. 


10     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Since  this  most  Christian  war  in- 
cludes laying  mines  in  the  fairways  of 
traffic,  and  since  these  mines  may  be 
laid  at  any  time  by  German  sub- 
marines especially  built  for  the  work, 
or  by  neutral  ships,  all  fairways  must 
be  swept  continuously  day  and  night. 
When  a  nest  of  mines  is  reported, 
traffic  must  be  hung  up  or  deviated 
till  it  is  cleared  out.  When  traffic 
comes  up  Channel  it  must  be  examined 
for  contraband  and  other  things;  and 
the  examining  tugs  lie  out  in  a  blaze 
of  lights  to  remind  ships  of  this. 
Months  ago,  when  the  war  was  young, 
the  tugs  did  not  know  what  to  look 
for  specially.  Now  they  do.  All 
this  mine-searching  and  reporting 
and  sweeping,  plus  the  direction  and 
examination  of  the  traffic,  phis  the 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      11 

laying  of  our  own  ever-shifting  mine- 
fields, is  part  of  the  Trawler  Fleet's 
work,  because  the  Navy-as-we-knew- 
it  is  busy  elsewhere.  And  there  is 
always  the  enemy  submarine  with  a 
price  on  her  head,  whom  the  Trawler 
Fleet  hunts  and  traps  with  zeal  and 
joy.  Add  to  this,  that  there  are  boats 
fishing  for  real  fish,  to  be  protected 
in  their  work  at  sea  or  chased  off 
dangerous  areas  where,  because  they 
are  strictly  forbidden  to  go,  they 
naturally  repair,  and  you  will  begin 
to  get  some  idea  of  what  the  Trawler 
and  Auxiliary  Fleet  does. 

THE   SHIPS   AND   THE   MEN 

Now,  imagine  the  acreage  of  several 
dock-basins  crammed,  gunwale  to 
gunwale,  with  brown  and  umber  and 


12     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

ochre  and  rust-red  steam-trawlers, 
tugs,  harbour  boats,  and  yachts  once 
clean  and  respectable,  now  dirty  and 
happy.  Throw  in  fish-steamers,  sur- 
prise-packets of  unknown  lines  and 
indescribable  junks,  sampans,  lorchas, 
catamarans,  and  General  Service 
stink-pontoons  filled  with  indescrib- 
able apparatus,  manned  by  men  no 
dozen  of  whom  seem  to  talk  the  same 
dialect  or  wear  the  same  clothes. 
The  mustard-coloured  jersey  who  is 
cleaning  a  six-pounder  on  a  Hull  boat 
clips  his  words  between  his  teeth  and 
would  be  happier  in  Gaelic.  The 
whitish  singlet  and  grey  trousers  held 
up  by  what  is  obviously  his  soldier 
brother's  spare  regimental  belt  is 
pure  Lowestoft.  The  complete  blue 
serge  and  soot  suit  passing  a  wire 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      13 

down  a  hatch  is  Glasgow  as  far  as  you 
can  hear  him,  which  is  a  fair  distance, 
because  he  wants  something  done  to 
the  other  end  of  the  wire,  and  the  flat- 
faced  boy  who  should  be  attending 
to  it  hails  from  the  remoter  Hebrides, 
and  is  looking  at  a  girl  on  the  dock- 
edge.  The  bow-legged  man  in  the 
ulster  and  green-worsted  comforter 
is  a  warm  Grimsby  skipper,  worth 
several  thousands.  He  and  his  crew, 
who  are  mostly  his  own  relations, 
keep  themselves  to  themselves,  and 
save  their  money.  The  pirate  with 
the  red  beard  barking  over  the  rail 
at  a  friend  with  gold  earrings  comes 
from  Skye.  The  friend  is  West  Coun- 
try. The  noticeably  insignificant 
man  with  the  soft  and  deprecating 
eye  is  skipper  and  part-owner  of  the 


14   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

big  slashing  Iceland  trawler  on  which 
he  droops  like  a  flower.  She  is  built 
to  almost  Western  Ocean  lines,  carries 
a  little  boat-deck  aft  with  tremendous 
stanchions,  has  a  nose  cocked  high 
against  ice  and  sweeping  seas,  and 
resembles  a  hawk-moth  at  rest.  The 
small,  sniflBng  man  is  reported  to  be 
a  "holy  terror  at  sea." 

HUNTERS   AND    FISHERS 

The  child  in  the  Pullman-car  uni- 
form just  going  ashore  is  a  wireless 
operator,  aged  nineteen.  He  is  at- 
tached to  a  flagship  at  least  120  feet 
long,  under  an  admiral  aged  twenty- 
five,  who  was,  till  the  other  day,  third 
mate  of  a  North  Atlantic  tramp,  but 
who  now  leads  a  squadron  of  six 
trawlers    to   hunt   submarines.     The 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      15 

principle  is  simple  enough.  Its  appli- 
cation depends  on  circumstances  and 
surroundings.  One  class  of  German 
submarines  meant  for  murder  off  the 
coasts  may  use  a  winding  and  rabbit- 
like track  between  shoals  where  the 
choice  of  water  is  limited.  Their 
career  is  rarely  long,  but  while  it  lasts 
moderately  exciting.  Others,  told  oflF 
for  deep-sea  assassinations,  are  at- 
tended to  quite  quietly  and  without 
any  excitement  at  all.  Others,  again, 
work  the  inside  of  the  North  Sea, 
making  no  distinction  between  neu- 
trals and  Allied  ships.  These  carry 
guns,  and  since  their  work  keeps  them 
a  good  deal  on  the  surface,  the  Traw- 
ler Fleet,  as  we  know,  engages  them 
there — the  submarine  firing,  sinking, 
and  rising  again  in  unexpected  qupr- 


16     THE    FRINGES    OF   THE    FLEET 

ters;  the  trawler  firing,  dodging,  ano 
trying  to  ram.  The  trawlers  are 
strongly  built,  and  can  stand  a  great 
deal  of  punishment.  Yet  again,  other 
German  submarines  hang  about  the 
skirts  of  fishing-fleets  and  fire  into  the 
brown  of  them.  "WTien  the  war  was 
young  this  gave  splendidly  "frightful" 
results,  but  for  some  reason  or  other 
the  game  is  not  as  popular  as  it  used 
to  be. 

Lastly,  there  are  German  sub- 
marines who  perish  by  ways  so  curious 
and  inexplicable  that  one  could  almost 
credit  the  whispered  idea  (it  must 
come  from  the  Scotch  skippers)  that 
the  ghosts  of  the  women  drowned 
pilot  them  to  destruction.  But  what 
form  these  shadows  take — whether  of 
"the  Lusitania  Ladies,"  or  humbler 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  17 

stewardesses  and  hospital  nurses — 
and  what  lights  or  sounds  the  thing 
fancies  it  sees  or  hears  before  it  is 
blotted  out,  no  man  will  ever  know. 
The  main  fact  is  that  the  work  is 
being  done.  Whether  it  was  neces- 
sary or  politic  to  re-awaken  by  violence 
every  sporting  instinct  of  a  sea-going 
people  is  a  question  which  the  enemy 
may  have  to  consider  later  on. 


Dawn  off  the  Foreland — the  young  flood 

making 
Jumbled  and  short  and  steep — 
Black  in  the  hollows  and  bright  where  it's 
breaking — 
Awkward  water  to  sweep. 
"  Mines  reported  in  the  fairway, 
"  Warn  all  traffic  and  detain. 
"Sent  up  Unity,  Claribel,  Assyrian,  Storm- 
cock,  and  Golden  Gain." 

Noon  off  the  Foreland — the  first  ebb  making 

Lumpy  and  strong  in  the  bight. 
Boom  after  boom,  and  the  golf-hut  shaking 
And  the  jackdaws  wild  with  fright ! 
"  Mines  located  in  the  fairway, 
"  Boats  now  working  up  the  chain, 
"Sweepers — Unity,     Claribel,     Assyrian, 
Stormcock,  and  Golden  Gain." 
19 


20     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Dusk  off  the  Foreland — the  last  light  going 

And  the  traffic  crowding  through. 
And  five  damned  trawlers  with  their  syreens 
blowing 
Heading  the  whole  revieiv ! 
"Sweep  completed  in  the  fairway. 
*'No  more  mines  remain. 
"Sent    back    Unity,    Claribel,    Assyrian, 
Stormcock,  and  Golden  Gain." 


n 

THE  AUXILIARIES 

The  Trawlers  seem  to  look  on  mines 
as  more  or  less  fairplay.  But  with 
the  torpedo  it  is  otherwise.  A  Yar- 
mouth man  lay  on  his  hatch,  his  gear 
neatly  stowed  away  below,  and  told 
me  that  another  Yarmouth  boat  had 
"gone  up,"  with  all  hands  except  one. 
"  'Twas  a  submarine.  Not  a  mine," 
said  he.  "They  never  gave  our  boys 
no  chance.  Na!  She  was  a  Yar- 
mouth boat — we  knew  'em  all.  They 
never  gave  the  boys  no  chance."  He 
was  a  submarine  hunter,  and  he  il- 
lustrated by  means  of  matches  placed 


21 


22     THE    FRINGES    OP   THE    FLEET 

at  various  angles  how  the  blindfold 
business  is  conducted.  "And  then," 
he  ended,  "there's  always  what  he'll 
do.  You've  got  to  think  that  out 
for  yourself — while  you're  working 
above  him — same  as  if  'twas  fish." 
I  should  not  care  to  be  hunted  for 
the  life  in  shallow  waters  by  a  man 
who  knows  every  bank  and  pot-hole 
of  them,  even  if  I  had  not  killed  his 
friends  the  week  before.  Being  nearly 
all  fishermen  they  discuss  their  work 
in  terms  of  fish,  and  put  in  their 
leisure  fishing  overside,  when  they 
sometimes  pull  up  ghastly  souvenirs. 
But  they  all  want  guns.  Those  who 
have  three-pounders  clamour  for  sixes ; 
sixes  for  twelves;  and  the  twelve- 
pound  aristocracy  dream  of  four- 
inchers    on    anti-aircraft    mountings 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     23 

for  the  benefit  of  roving  Zeppelins. 
They  will  all  get  them  in  time,  and  I 
fancy  it  will  be  long  ere  they  give 
them  up.  One  West  Country  mate 
announced  that  "a  gun  is  a  handy 
thing  to  have  aboard — always."  "But 
in  peace-time?"  I  said.  "Wouldn't 
it  be  in  the  way.'^" 

"We'm  used  to  'em  now,"  was  the 
smiling  answer.  "Niver  go  to  sea 
again  without  a  gun — /  wouldn't — 
if  I  had  my  way.  It  keeps  all  hands 
pleased-like." 

They  talk  about  men  in  the  Army 
who  will  never  willingly  go  back  to 
civil  life.  What  of  the  fishermen 
who  have  tasted  something  sharper 
than  salt  water — and  what  of  the 
young  third  and  fourth  mates  who 
have    held    independent    commands 


24  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

for  nine  months  past?  One  of  them 
said  to  me  quite  irrelevantly:  "I 
used  to  be  the  animal  that  got  up 
the  trunks  for  the  women  on  bag- 
gage-days in  the  old  Bodiam  Castle," 
and  he  mimicked  their  requests  for 
"the  large  brown  box,"  or  "the  black 
dress  basket,"  as  a  freed  soul  might 
scoff  at  his  old  life  in  the  flesh. 

"a  common  sweeper" 

My  sponsor  and  chaperon  in  this 
Elizabethan  world  of  eighteenth- 
century  seamen  was  an  A.  B.  who 
had  gone  down  in  the  Landrail,  as- 
sisted at  the  Heligoland  fight,  seen 
the  Bliicher  sink  and  the  bombs 
dropped  on  our  boats  when  we  tried  to 
save  the  drowning  ("Whereby,"  as 
he  said,  "those  Germans  died  gott- 


THE    FEINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     25 

strafin'  their  own  country  because 
we  didn't  wait  to  be  strafed"),  and 
has  now  found  more  peaceful  days 
in  an  Office  ashore.  He  led  me  across 
many  decks  from  craft  to  craft  to 
study  the  various  appliances  that 
they  specialize  in.  Almost  our  last 
was  what  a  North  Country  trawler 
called  a  "common  sweeper,"  that 
is  to  say,  a  mine-sweeper.  She  was 
at  tea  in  her  shirt-sleeves,  and  she 
protested  loudly  that  there  was  "noth- 
ing in  sweeping."  " 'See  that  wire 
rope?"  she  said.  "Well,  it  leads 
through  that  lead  to  the  ship  which 
you're  sweepin'  with.  She  makes 
her  end  fast  and  you  make  yours. 
Then  you  sweep  together  at  which- 
ever depth  you've  agreed  upon  be- 
tween   you,    by    means   of    that   ar- 


26  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

rangement  there  which  regulates  the 
depth.  They  give  you  a  glass  sort 
o'  thing  for  keepin'  your  distance 
from  the  other  ship,  but  thafs  not 
wanted  if  you  know  each  other. 
Well,  then  you  sweep,  as  the  sayin' 
is.  There's  nothin'  in  it.  You 
sweep  till  this  wire  rope  fouls  the 
bloomin'  mines.  Then  you  go  on 
till  they  appear  on  the  surface,  so 
to  say,  and  then  you  explode  them 
by  means  of  shootin'  at  'em  with 
that  rifle  in  the  gallery  there. 
There's  nothin'  in  sweepin'  more  than 
that." 

"And  if  you  hit  a  mine?"  I  asked. 

"You  go  up — but  you  hadn't  ought 
to  hit  'em,  if  you're  careful.  The 
thing  is  to  get  hold  of  the  first 
mine  all  right,  and  then  you  go  on 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     27 

to  the  next,  and  so  on,  in  a  way  o' 
speakin'." 

"And  you  can  fish,  too,  'tween 
times,"  said  a  voice  from  the  next 
boat.  A  man  leaned  over  and  re- 
turned a  borrowed  mug.  They  talked 
about  fishing — notably  that  once  they 
caught  some  red  mullet,  which  the 
"  common  sweeper"  and  his  neighbour 
both  agreed  was  "not  natural  in 
those  waters."  As  for  mere  sweep- 
ing, it  bored  them  profoundly  to 
talk  about  it.  I  only  learned  later 
as  part  of  the  natural  history  of 
mines,  that  if  you  rake  the  tri-nitro- 
toluol  by  hand  out  of  a  German 
mine  you  develop  eruptions  and 
skin-poisoning.  But  on  the  author- 
ity of  two  experts,  there  is  nothing 
in    sweeping.     Nothing    whatever! 


28     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 
A    BLOCK    IN    THE   TRAFFIC 

Now  imagine,  not  a  pistol-shot 
from  these  crowded  quays,  a  little 
Office  hung  round  with  charts  that 
are  pencilled  and  noted  over  various 
shoals  and  soundings.  There  is  a 
movable  list  of  the  boats  at  work, 
with  quaint  and  domestic  names. 
Outside  the  window  lies  the  packed 
harbour — outside  that  again  the  line 
of  traffic  up  and  down — a  stately 
cinema-show  of  six  ships  to  the  hour. 
For  the  moment  the  film  sticks.  A 
boat — probably  a  "common  sweeper" 
— reports  an  obstruction  in  the  traffic 
lane  a  few  miles  away.  She  has 
found  and  exploded  one  mine.  The 
Office  heard  the  dull  boom  of  it 
before  the  wireless  report  came  in. 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     29 

In  all  likelihood  there  is  a  nest  of  them 
there.  It  is  possible  that  a  submarine 
may  have  got  in  last  night  between 
certain  shoals  and  laid  them  out. 
The  shoals  are  being  shepherded  in 
case  she  is  hidden  anywhere,  but 
the  boundaries  of  the  newly-discov- 
vered  mine-area  must  be  fixed  and 
the  traffic  deviated.  There  is  a  tramp 
outside  with  tugs  in  attendance.  She 
has  hit  something  and  is  leaking 
badly.  Where  shall  she  go?  The 
Office  gives  her  her  destination — 
the  harbour  is  too  full  for  her  to  settle 
down  here.  She  swings  off  between 
the  faithful  tugs.  Down  coast  some 
one  asks  by  wireless  if  they  shall  hold 
up  their  traffic.  It  is  exactly  like  a 
signaller  "offering"  a  train  to  the 
next   block.     "Yes,"    the    Office    re- 


30  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

plies.  "Wait  a  while.  If  it's  what 
we  think  there  will  be  a  little  delay. 
If  it  isn't  what  we  think,  there  will 
be  a  little  longer  delay."  Mean- 
time, sweepers  are  nosing  round  the 
suspected  area — "looking  for  cuc- 
koos' eggs,"  as  a  voice  suggests;  and 
a  patrol-boat  lathers  her  way  down 
coast  to  catch  and  stop  anything 
that  may  be  on  the  move,  for  skip- 
pers are  sometimes  rather  careless. 
Words  begin  to  drop  out  of  the  air 
into  the  chart-hung  Office.  "Six  and  a 
half  cables  south,  fifteen  east  "of  some- 
thing or  other.  * '  Mark  it  well,  and  tell 
them  to  work  up  from  there,"  is  the 
order.  "Another  mine  exploded!" 
"Yes,  and  we  heard  that  too,"  says  the 
Office.  "  What  about  the  submarine?  " 
"  Elizabeth  Huggins  reports     .     .     ." 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  31 

Elizabeth's  scandal  must  be  fairly 
high  flavoured,  for  a  torpedo-boat 
of  immoral  aspects  slings  herself 
out  of  harbour  and  hastens  to  share 
it.  If  Elizabeth  has  not  spoken  the 
truth,  there  may  be  words  between 
the  parties.  For  the  present  a  pen- 
cilled suggestion  seems  to  cover  the 
case,  together  with  a  demand,  as  far 
as  one  can  make  out,  for  "more 
common  sweepers."  They  will  be 
forthcoming  very  shortly.  Those  at 
work  have  got  the  run  of  the  mines 
now,  and  are  busily  howking  them 
up.  A  trawler-skipper  wishes  to 
speak  to  the  Office,  "They"  have 
ordered  him  out,  but  his  boiler,  most 
of  it,  is  on  the  quay  at  the  present 
time,  and  "ye'll  remember,  it's  the 
same  wi'  my  foremast  an'  port  rig- 


32     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

ging,  sir."  The  OflBce  does  not  pre- 
cisely remember,  but  if  boiler  and 
foremast  are  on  the  quay  the  rest 
of  the  ship  had  better  stay  alongside. 
The  skipper  falls  away  relieved.  (He 
scraped  a  tramp  a  few  nights  ago  in 
a  bit  of  a  sea.)  There  is  a  little 
mutter  of  gun-fire  somewhere  across 
the  grey  water  where  a  fleet  is  at 
work.  A  monitor  as  broad  as  she 
is  long  comes  back  from  wherever 
the  trouble  is,  slips  through  the 
harbour-mouth,  all  wreathed  with 
signals,  is  received  by  two  motherly 
lighters,  and,  to  all  appearance,  goes 
to  sleep  between  them.  The  Office 
does  not  even  look  up;  for  that  is 
not  in  their  department.  They  have 
found  a  trawler  to  replace  the  boil- 
erless    one.     Her    name    is    slid    into 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  33 

the  rack.  The  immoral  torpedo-boat 
flounces  back  to  her  moorings.  Evi- 
dently what  Elizabeth  Huggins  said 
was  not  evidence.  The  messages  and 
replies  begin  again  as  the  day  closes. 

THE   NIGHT-PATROL 

Return  now  to  the  inner  harbour. 
At  twilight  there  was  a  stir  among 
the  packed  craft  like  the  separation 
of  dried  tea-leaves  in  water.  The 
swing-bridge  across  the  basin  shut 
against  us.  A  boat  shot  out  of  the 
jam,  took  the  narrow  exit  at  a  fair 
seven  knots  and  rounded  into  the 
outer  harbour  with  all  the  pomp  of  a 
flagship,  which  was  exactly  what  she 
was.  Others  followed,  breaking  away 
from  every  quarter  in  silence.  Boat 
after  boat  fell  into  line — gear  stowed 


34     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

away;  spars  and  buoys  in  order  on 
their  clean  decks;  guns  cast  loose 
and  ready;  wheel-house  windows  dark- 
ened, and  everything  in  order  for  a 
day  or  a  week  or  a  month  out.  There 
was  no  word  anywhere.  The  inter- 
rupted foot-traffic  stared  at  them  as 
they  slid  past  below.  A  woman 
beside  me  waved  a  hand  to  a  man 
on  one  of  them,  and  I  saw  his  face 
light  as  he  waved  back.  The  boat 
where  they  had  demonstrated  for 
me  with  matches  was  the  last.  Her 
skipper  hadn't  thought  it  worth  while 
to  tell  me  that  he  was  going  that 
evening.  Then  the  line  straightened 
up  and  stood  out  to  sea. 

"You  never  said  this  was  going  to 
happen,"  I  said  reproachfully  to  my 
A.  B. 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     35 

"No  more  I  did,"  said  he.  "It's 
the  night-patrol  going  out.  Fact  is, 
I'm  so  used  to  the  bloomin'  evolution 
that  it  never  struck  me  to  mention  it 
as  you  might  say." 

Next  morning  I  was  at  service  in  a 
man-of-war,  and  even  as  we  came  to 
the  prayer  that  the  Navy  might  "be 
a  safeguard  to  such  as  pass  upon  the 
sea  on  their  lawful  occasions,"  I  saw 
the  long  procession  of  traffic  resum- 
ing up  and  down  the  Channel — six 
ships  to  the  hour.  It  has  been  hung 
up  for  a  bit,  they  said. 


Farewell    and    adieu    to    you,    Greenwich 

ladies. 
Farewell  and  adieu  to  you,  ladies  ashore ! 
For  we've  received  orders  to  work  to  the 

eastward 
Where  we  hope  in  a  short  time  to  strafe  'em 

some  more. 

We'll  duck  and  we'll  dive  like  little  tin  turtles, 

We'll  duck  and  we'll  dive  underneath  the 
North  Seas, 

Until  we  strike  something  that  doesn't  ex- 
pect us. 

From  here  to  Cuxhaven  it's  go  as  you  please! 

The  first  thing  we  did  was  to  dock  in  a 

mine-field. 
Which  isn't  a  place  where  repairs  should 

be  done; 

37 


38      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

And  there  we  lay  doggo  in  twelve-fathom 

water 
With  tri-nitro-toluol  hogging  our  run. 

The  next  thing  ive  did,  we  rose  under  a 

Zeppelin, 
With  his  shiny  big  belly  half  blocking  the 

sky. 
But  what  in  the — Heavens  can  you  do  loith 

six-pounders  ? 
So  we  fired  what  we  had  and  we  bade  him 

good-bye. 


SUBMARINES 

The  chief  business  of  the  Trawler 
Fleet  is  to  attend  to  the  traflfic.  The 
submarine  in  her  sphere  attends  to  the 
enemy.  Like  the  destroyer,  the  sub- 
marine has  created  its  own  type  of  oflB- 
cer  and  man — with  a  language  and  tra- 
ditions apart  from  the  rest  of  the  Serv- 
ice, and  yet  at  heart  unchangingly  of 
the  Service.  Their  business  is  to  run 
monstrous  risks  from  earth,  air,  and 
water,  in  what,  to  be  of  any  use,  must 
be  the  coldest  of  cold  blood. 

The  commander's  is  more  a  one- 
man  job,  as  the  crew's  is  more  team 

89 


40   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

work,  than  any  other  employment 
afloat.  That  is  why  the  relations 
between  submarine  officers  and  men 
are  what  they  are.  They  play  hourly 
for  each  other's  lives  with  Death  the 
Umpire  always  at  their  elbow  on  tip- 
toe to  give  them  "Out." 

There  is  a  stretch  of  water,  once 
dear  to  amateur  yachtsmen,  now 
given  over  to  scouts,  submarines, 
destroyers,  and,  of  course,  contingents 
of  trawlers.  We  were  waiting  the 
return  of  some  boats  which  were  due 
to  report.  A  couple  surged  up  the 
still  harbour  in  the  afternoon  light 
and  tied  up  beside  their  sisters. 
There  climbed  out  of  them  three  or 
four  high-booted,  sunken-eyed  pirates 
clad  in  sweaters,  under  jackets  that 
a  stoker  of  the  last  generation  would 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  41 

have  disowned.  This  was  their  first 
chance  to  compare  notes  at  close 
hand.  Together  they  lamented  the 
loss  of  a  Zeppelin — "a  perfect  mug  of 
a  Zepp,"  who  had  come  down  very 
low  and  offered  one  of  them  a  sitting 
shot.  "But  what  can  you  do  with 
our  guns?  I  gave  him  what  I  had, 
and  then  he  started  bombing." 

"I  know  he  did,"  another  said. 
"I  heard  him.  That's  what  brought 
me  down  to  you.  I  thought  he  had 
you  that  last  time." 

"No,  I  was  forty  foot  under  when 
he  hove  out  the  big  'un.  What  hap- 
pened to  you?" 

"My  steering-gear  jammed  just 
after  I  went  down,  and  I  had  to  go 
round  in  circles  till  I  got  it  straight- 
ened out.     But  wasn't  he  a  mug!" 


42     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

"Was  he  the  brute  with  the  patch 
on  his  port  side?  "  a  sister-boat  de- 
manded. 

"No!  This  fellow  had  just  been 
hatched.  He  was  almost  sitting  on 
the  water,  heaving  bombs  over." 

"And  my  blasted  steering-gear 
went  and  chose  then  to  go  wrong,"  the 
other  commander  mourned.  "I 
thought  his  last  little  egg  was  going  to 
get  me!" 

Half  an  hour  later  I  was  formally  in- 
troduced to  three  or  four  quite  strange, 
quite  immaculate  oflBcers,  freshly 
shaved,  and  a  little  tired  about  the 
eyes,  whom  I  thought  I  had  met  before. 

LABOUR   AND   REFRESHMENT 

Meantime  (it  was  on  the  hour  of 
evening  drinks)  one  of  the  boats  was 


THE    FRINGES    OF   THE    FLEET     43 

still  unaccounted  for.  No  one  talked 
of  her.  They  rather  discussed  motor- 
cars and  Admiralty  constructors,  but 
— it  felt  like  that  queer  twilight 
watch  at  the  front  when  the  homing 
aeroplanes  drop  in.  Presently  a  sig- 
naller entered:  "V.  42  outside,  sir; 
wants  to  know  which  channel  she  shall 
use."  "Oh,  thank  you.  Tell  her  to 
take  so-and-so."  .  .  .  Mine,  I 
remember,  was  vermouth  and  bitters, 
and  later  on  V.  42  himself  found  a  soft 
chair  and  joined  the  committee  of 
instruction.  Those  next  for  duty, 
as  well  as  those  in  training,  wished 
to  hear  what  was  going  on,  and  who 
had  shifted  what  to  where,  and  how 
certain  arrangements  had  worked. 
They  were  told  in  language  not  to 
be    found    in    any    printable    book. 


44      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Questions  and  answers  were  alike 
Hebrew  to  one  listener,  but  he  gath- 
ered that  every  boat  carried  a  second 
in  command — a  strong,  persevering 
youth,  who  seemed  responsible  for 
everything  that  went  wrong,  from  a 
motor  cylinder  to  a  torpedo.  Then 
somebody  touched  on  the  mercantile 
marine  and  its  habits. 

Said  one  philosopher:  "They  can't 
be  expected  to  take  any  more  risks 
than  they  do.  /  wouldn't,  if  I  was  a 
skipper.  I'd  loose  off  at  any  blessed 
periscope  I  saw." 

"That's  all  very  fine.  You  wait 
till  you've  had  a  patriotic  tramp  tryin' 
to  strafe  you  at  your  own  back-door," 
said  another. 

Some  one  told  a  tale  of  a  man  with 
a  voice,   notable  even  in  a    Service 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     45 

where  men  are  not  trained  to  whisper. 
He  was  coming  back,  empty-handed, 
dirty,  tired,  and  best  left  alone.  For 
the  peace  of  the  German  side  he  had 
entered  our  hectic  home-waters,  where 
the  usual  tramp  shelled,  and  by  mirac- 
ulous luck,  crumpled  his  periscope. 
Another  man  might  have  dived,  but 
Boanerges  kept  on  rising.  Majestic 
and  wrathful  he  rose  personally 
through  his  main  hatch,  and  at  2000 
yards  (have  I  said  it  was  a  still  day.'') 
addressed  the  tramp.  Even  at  that 
distance  she  gathered  it  was  a  Naval 
officer  with  a  grievance,  and  by  the 
time  he  ran  alongside  she  was  in  a 
state  of  coma,  but  managed  to  stam- 
mer: "Well,  sir,  at  least  you'll  admit 
that  our  shooting  was  pretty  good." 
"And   that,"   said   my   informant, 


46  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

"put  the  lid  on!"  Boanerges  went 
down  lest  he  should  be  tempted  to 
murder,  and  the  tramp  afSrms  she 
heard  him  rumbling  beneath  her,  like 
an  inverted  thunderstorm,  for  fifteen 
minutes. 

"All  those  tramps  ought  to  be  dis- 
armed, and  we  ought  to  have  all  their 
guns,"  said  a  voice  out  of  a  corner. 

"What.''  Still  worrying  over  your 
'mug?'"  some  one  replied. 

"He  was  a  mug!"  went  on  the 
man  of  one  idea.  "If  I'd  had  a 
couple  of  twelves  even,  I  could  have 
strafed  him  proper.  I  don't  know 
whether  I  shall  mutiny,  or  desert,  or 
write  to  the  First  Sea  Lord  about  it." 

"Strafe  all  Admiralty  constructors 
to  begin  with.  /  could  build  a  better 
boat  with  a  4-inch  lathe  and  a  sardine- 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     47 

tin    than ,"    the    speaker   named 

her  by  letter  and  number. 

"That's  pure  jealousy,"  her  com- 
mander explained  to  the  company. 
"Ever  since  I  installed — ahem! — 
my  patent  electric  wash-basin  he's 
been  intriguin'  to  get  her.  Why? 
We  know  he  doesn't  wash.  He'd 
only  use  the  basin  to  keep  beer  in." 

UNDERWATER   WORKS 

However  often  one  meets  it,  as  in 
this  war  one  meets  it  at  every  turn, 
one  never  gets  used  to  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  Man  at  his  job.  The  "com- 
mon sweeper,"  growling  over  his 
mug  of  tea  that  there  w^as  "nothing 
in  sweepin',"  and  these  idly  chaflBng 
men,  new  shaved,  and  attired,  from 
the   eates   of   Death   which   had   let 


48   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

them  through  for  the  fiftieth  time, 
were  all  of  the  same  fabric — incom- 
prehensible, I  should  Imagine,  to  the 
enemy.  And  the  stuff  held  good 
throughout  all  the  world — from  the 
Dardanelles  to  the  Baltic,  where  only 
a  little  while  ago  another  batch  of 
submarines  had  slipped  in  and  begun 
to  be  busy.  I  had  spent  some  of  the 
afternoon  in  looking  through  reports 
of  submarine  work  in  the  Sea  of 
IMarmora.  They  read  like  the  diary 
of  energetic  weasels  in  an  over- 
crowded chicken-run,  and  the  results 
for  each  boat  were  tabulated  some- 
thing like  a  cricket  score.  There 
were  no  maiden  overs.  One  came 
across  jewels  of  price  set  in  the  flat 
official  phraseology.  For  example, 
one  man  who  was   describing  some 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  49 

steps  he  was  taking  to  remedy  cer- 
tain defects,  interjected  casually:  "At 
this  point  I  had  to  go  under  for  a 
little,  as  a  man  in  a  boat  was  trying 
to  grab  my  periscope  with  his  hand." 
No  reference  before  or  after  to  the 
said  man  or  his  fate.  Again :  "  'Came 
across  a  dhow  with  a  Turkish  skipper. 
He  seemed  so  miserable  that  I  let 
him  go."  And  elsewhere  in  those 
waters,  a  submarine  overhauled  a 
steamer  full  of  Turkish  passengers, 
some  of  whom,  arguing  on  their  allies' 
lines,  promptly  leaped  overboard. 
Our  boat  fished  them  out  and  returned 
them,  for  she  was  not  killing  civilians. 
In  another  affair,  which  included 
several  ships  (now  at  the  bottom) 
and  one  submarine,  the  commander 
relaxes   enoucjh   to   note   that:   "The 


50  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

men  behaved  very  well  under  direct 
and  flanking  fire  from  rifles  at  about 
fifteen  yards."  This  was  not,  I  be- 
lieve, the  submarine  that  fought  the 
Turkish  cavalry  on  the  beach.  And 
in  addition  to  matters  much  more 
marvellous  than  any  I  have  hinted  at, 
the  reports  deal  with  repairs  and 
shifts  and  contrivances  carried 
through  in  the  face  of  dangers  that 
read  like  the  last  delirium  of  romance. 
One  boat  went  down  the  Straits  and 
found  herself  rather  canted  over  to 
one  side.  A  mine  and  chain  had 
jammed  under  her  forward  diving- 
plane.  So  far  as  I  made  out,  she 
shook  it  off  by  standing  on  her  head 
and  jerking  backward;  or  it  may 
have  been,  for  the  thing  has  occurred 
more  than  once,  she  merely  rose  as 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     51 

much  as  she  could  when  she  could, 
and  then  "released  it  by  hand," 
as  the  official  phrase  goes. 

FOUR   NIGHTMARES 

And  who,  a  few  months  ago,  could 
have  invented,  or  having  invented, 
would  have  dared  to  print  such  a 
nightmare  as  this:  There  was  a  boat 
in  the  North  Sea  who  ran  into  a  net 
and  was  caught  by  the  nose.  She 
rose,  still  entangled,  meaning  to  cut 
the  thing  away  on  the  surface.  But 
a  Zeppelin  in  waiting  saw  and  bombed 
her,  and  she  had  to  go  down  again  at 
once — but  not  too  wildly  or  she  would 
get  herself  more  wrapped  up  than 
ever.  She  went  down,  and  by  slow 
working  and  weaving  and  wriggling, 
guided  only  by  guesses  at  the  mean- 


52     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

ing  of  each  scrape  and  grind  of  the 
net  on  her  blind  forehead,  at  last 
she  drew  clear.  Then  she  sat  on  the 
bottom  and  thought.  The  question 
was  whether  she  should  go  back  at 
once  and  warn  her  confederates 
against  the  trap,  or  wait  till  the 
destroyers  which  she  knew  the  Zep- 
pelin would  have  signalled  for,  should 
come  out  to  finish  her  still  entangled, 
as  they  would  suppose,  in  the  net.^* 
It  was  a  simple  calculation  of  com- 
parative speeds  and  positions,  and 
when  it  was  worked  out  she  decided 
to  try  for  the  double  event.  Within 
a  few  minutes  of  the  time  she  had 
allowed  for  them  she  heard  the  twit- 
ter of  four  destroyers'  screws  quarter- 
ing above  her;  rose;  got  her  shot  in; 
saw    one    destroyer    crumple;  hung 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     58 

round  till  another  took  the  wreck  in 
tow;  said  good-bye  to  the  spare  brace 
(she  was  at  the  end  of  her  supplies), 
and  reached  the  rendezvous  in  time 
to  turn  her  friends. 

And  since  we  are  dealing  in  night- 
mares, here  are  two  more — one  gen- 
uine, the  other,  mercifully,  false. 
There  was  a  boat  not  only  at,  but  in 
the  mouth  of  a  river — well  home  in 
German  territory.  She  was  spotted, 
and  went  under,  her  commander  per- 
fectly aware  that  there  was  not  more 
than  five  feet  of  water  over  her 
conning-tower,  so  that  even  a  torpedo- 
boat,  let  alone  a  destroyer,  would  hit 
it  if  she  came  over.  But  nothing 
hit  anything.  The  search  was  con- 
ducted on  scientific  principles  while 
they    sat   on   the   silt   and    suffered. 


54      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Then  the  commander  heard  the  rasp 
of  a  wire  trawl  sweeping  over  his  hull. 
It  was  not  a  nice  sound,  but  there 
happened  to  be  a  couple  of  gramo- 
phones aboard,  and  he  turned  them 
both  on  to  drown  it.  And  in  due 
time  that  boat  got  home  with  every- 
body's hair  of  just  the  same  colour 
as  when  they  had  started! 

The  other  nightmare  arose  out  of 
silence  and  imagination.  A  boat  had 
gone  to  bed  on  the  bottom  in  a  spot 
where  she  might  reasonably  expect 
to  be  looked  for,  but  it  was  a  con- 
venient jumping  off,  or  up,  place  for 
the  work  in  hand.  About  the  bad 
hour  of  2.30  a.m.  the  commander  was 
waked  by  one  of  his  men,  who  whis- 
pered to  him:  "They've  got  the 
chains  on  us,  sir!"      Whether  it  was 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     55 

pure  nightmare,  an  hallucination  of 
long  wakefulness,  something  relaxing 
and  releasing  in  that  packed  box  of 
machinery,  or  the  disgustful  reality, 
the  commander  could  not  tell,  but  it 
had  all  the  makings  of  panic  in  it. 
So  the  Lord  and  long  training  put  it 
into  his  head  to  reply!  "Have  they? 
Well,  we  shan't  be  coming  up  till  nine 
o'clock  this  morning.  We'll  see  about 
it  then.     Turn  out  that  light,  please." 

He  did  not  sleep,  but  the  dreamer 
and  the  others  did;  and  when  morn- 
ing came  and  he  gave  the  order  to 
rise,  and  she  rose  unhampered,  and 
he  saw  the  grey  smeared  seas  from 
above  once  again,  he  said  it  was  a 
very  refreshing  sight. 

Lastly,  which  is  on  all  fours  with 
the  gamble  of  the  chase,  a  man  was 


56     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

coming  home  rather  bored  after  an 
uneventful  trip.  It  was  necessary 
for  him  to  sit  on  the  bottom  for 
awhile,  and  there  he  played  patience. 
Of  a  sudden  it  struck  him,  as  a  vow 
and  an  omen,  that  if  he  worked  out 
the  next  game  correctly  he  would  go 
up  and  strafe  something.  The  cards 
fell  all  in  order.  He  went  up  at  once 
and  found  himself  alongside  a  German, 
whom,  as  he  had  promised  and  proph- 
esied to  himself,  he  destroyed.  She 
was  a  mine-layer,  and  needed  only  a  jar 
to  dissipate  like  a  cracked  electric-light 
bulb.  He  was  somewhat  impressed  by 
the  contrast  between  the  single-handed 
game  50  feet  below,  the  ascent,  the  at- 
tack, the  amazing  result,  and  when  he 
descended  again,  his  cards  just  as  he 
had  left  them. 


The  ships  destroy  us  above 
And  ensnare  us  beneath. 

We  arise,  we  lie  down,  and  we  move 
In  the  belly  of  Death. 

The  ships  have  a  thousand  eyes 
To  mark  where  we  come     .     . 

And  the  mirth  of  a  seaport  dies 
When  our  blow  gets  home. 


61 


II 

SUBMARINES 

I  was  honoured  by  a  glimpse  into 
this  veiled  life  in  a  boat  which  was 
merely  practising  between  trips.  Sub- 
marines are  like  cats.  They  never 
tell  "who  they  were  with  last  night," 
and  they  sleep  as  much  as  they  can. 
If  you  board  a  submarine  off  duty 
you  generally  see  a  perspective  of 
fore-shortened  fattish  men  laid  all 
along.  The  men  say  that  except  at 
certain  times  it  is  rather  an  easy 
life,  with  relaxed  regulations  about 
smoking,  calculated  to  make  a  man 

59 


60     THE    FRINGES    OF   THE    FLEET 

put  on  flesh.  One  requires  well- 
padded  nerves.  Many  of  the  men 
do  not  appear  on  deck  throughout 
the  whole  trip.  After  all,  why  should 
they  if  they  don't  want  to?  They 
know  that  they  are  responsible  in 
their  department  for  their  comrades' 
lives  as  their  comrades  are  respon- 
sible for  theirs.  What's  the  use  of 
flapping  about?  Better  lay  in  some 
magazines  and  cigarettes. 

When  we  set  forth  there  had  been 
some  trouble  in  the  fairway,  and  a 
mined  neutral,  whose  misfortune  all 
bore  with  exemplary  calm,  was  ca- 
reened on  a  near  by  shoal. 

"Suppose  there  are  more  mines 
knocking  about?"  I  suggested. 

"We'll  hope  there  aren't,"  was  the 
soothing  reply.     "Mines  are  all  Joss. 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET   61 

You  either  hit  'em  or  you  don't. 
And  if  you  do,  they  don't  always  go 
off.     They  scrape  alongside." 

"What's  the  etiquette  then?" 

"Shut  off  both  propellers  and 
hope." 

We  were  dodging  various  craft 
down  the  harbour  when  a  squadron 
of  trawlers  came  out  on  our  beam,  at 
that  extravagant  rate  of  speed  which 
unlimited  Government  coal  always 
leads  to.  They  were  led  by  an  ugly, 
upstanding,  black-sided  buccaneer 
with  twelve-pounders. 

"Ah!  That's  the  King  of  the 
Trawlers.  Isn't  he  carrying  dog,  too! 
Give  him  room!"  one  said. 

We  were  all  in  the  narrowed  har- 
bour mouth  together. 

"'There's  my  youngest  daughter. 


62     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

Take  a  look  at  her!'"  some  one 
hummed  as  a  punctilious  navy  cap  slid 
by  on  a  very  near  bridge. 

"  We'll  fall  in  behind  him.  They're 
going  over  to  the  neutral.  Then 
they'll  sweep.  By  the  bye,  did  you 
hear  about  one  of  the  passengers  in 
the  neutral  yesterday.  He  was  taken 
off,  of  course,  by  a  destroyer,  and 
the  only  thing  he  said  was:  'Twenty- 
five  time  I  'ave  insured,  but  not  this 
time.     .     .     .     'Ang   it!'" 

The  trawlers  lunged  ahead  toward 
the  forlorn  neutral.  Our  destroyer 
nipped  past  us  with  that  high- 
shouldered,  terrier-like  pouncing  ac- 
tion of  the  newer  boats,  and  went 
ahead.  A  tramp  in  ballast,  her  pro- 
peller half  out  of  water,  threshed 
along  through  the  sallow  haze. 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     63 

"Lord!  What  a  shot!"  somebody 
said  enviously.  The  men  on  the 
little  deck  looked  across  at  the  slow- 
moving  silhouette.  One  of  them,  a 
cigarette  behind  his  ear,  smiled  at  a 
companion. 

Then  we  went  down — not  as  they 
go  when  they  are  pressed  (the  record, 
I  believe,  is  50  feet  in  50  seconds 
from  top  to  bottom),  but  genteelly, 
to  an  orchestra  of  appropriate  sounds, 
roarings,  and  blowings,  and  after 
the  orders,  which  come  from  the 
commander  alone,  utter  silence  and 
peace. 

"There's  the  bottom.  We  bumped 
at  fifty — fifty-two,"  he  said. 

"I  didn't  feel  it." 

"  We'll  try  again.  Watch  the  gauge 
and  you'll  see  it  flick  a  little.". 


64      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 
THE    PRACTICE    OF   THE   ART 

It  may  have  been  so,  but  I  was  more 
interested  in  the  faces,  and  above  all 
the  eyes,  all  down  the  length  of  her. 
It  was  to  them,  of  course,  the  simplest 
of  manoeuvres.  They  dropped  into 
gear  as  no  machine  could;  but  the 
training  of  years  and  the  experience 
of  the  year  leaped  up  behind  those 
steady  eyes  under  the  electrics  in 
the  shadow  of  the  tall  motors,  be- 
tween the  pipes  and  the  curved  hull, 
or  glued  to  their  special  gauges.  One 
forgot  the  bodies  altogether — but  one 
will  never  forget  the  eyes  or  the  en- 
nobled faces.  One  man  I  remember 
in  particular.  On  deck  his  was  no 
more  than  a  grave,  rather  striking 
countenance,   cast  in   the  unmistak- 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     65 

able  petty  officer's  mould.  Below, 
as  I  saw  him  in  profile  handling  a 
vital  control,  he  looked  like  the 
Doge  of  Venice;  the  Prior  of  some 
sternly-ruled  monastic  order;  an  old- 
time  Pope — anything  that  signifies 
trained  and  stored  mtellectual  power 
utterly  and  ascetically  devoted  to 
some  vast  impersonal  end.  And  so 
with  a  much  younger  man,  who 
changed  into  such  a  monk  as  Frank 
Dicksee  used  to  draw.  Only  a  couple 
of  torpedo-men,  not  being  in  gear  for 
the  moment,  read  an  illustrated  paper. 
Their  time  did  not  come  till  we  went 
up  and  got  to  business,  which  meant 
firing  at  our  destroyer,  and,  I  think, 
keeping  out  of  the  light  of  a  friend's 
torpedoes. 

The    attack    and    everything   con- 


66     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

nected  with  it  is  solely  the  com- 
mander's affair.  He  is  the  only  one 
who  gets  any  fun  at  all — since  he  is 
the  eye,  the  brain,  and  the  hand  of 
the  whole — this  single  figure  at  the 
periscope.  The  second  in  command 
heaves  sighs,  and  prays  that  the 
dummy  torpedo  (there  is  less  trouble 
about  the  live  ones)  will  go  off  all 
right,  or  he'll  be  told  about  it.  The 
others  wait  and  follow  the  quick 
run  of  orders.  It  is,  if  not  a  con- 
vention, a  fairly  established  custom 
that  the  commander  shall  inferen- 
tially  give  his  world  some  idea  of  what 
is  going  on.  At  least,  I  only  heard 
of  one  man  who  says  nothing  what- 
ever, and  doesn't  even  wriggle  his 
shoulders  when  he  is  on  the  sight. 
The   others  soliloquize,  etc.,  accord- 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     67 

ing  to  their   temperament;   and    the 
periscope  is  as  revealing  as  golf. 

Submarines  nowadays  are  expected 
to  look  out  for  themselves  more  than 
at  the  old  practices,  when  the  de- 
stroyers walked  circumspectly.  We 
dived  and  circulated  under  water  for 
a  while,  and  then  rose  for  a  sight — 
something  like  this:  "Up  a  Httle — 
up!  Up  still!  Where  the  deuce  has 
he  got  to — Ah !  (Half  a  dozen  orders 
as  to  helm  and  depth  of  descent,  and 
a  pause  broken  by  a  drumming  noise 
somewhere  above,  which  increases 
and  passes  away.)  That's  better! 
Up  again!  (This  refers  to  the  peri- 
scope.) Yes.  Ah!  No,  we  donH 
think!  All  right!  Keep  her  down, 
damn  it!  Umm!  That  ought  to  be 
nineteen  knots.     .     .     .     Dirty  trick! 


68     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

He's  changing  speed.  No,  he  isn't. 
He's  all  right.  Ready  forward  there! 
(A  valve  sputters  and  drips,  the 
torpedo-men  crouch  over  their  tubes 
and  nod  to  themselves.  Their  faces 
have  changed  now.)  He  hasn't 
spotted  us  yet.  We'll  ju-ust — (more 
helm  and  depth  orders,  but  specially 
helm) — 'Wish  we  were  working  a 
beam-tube.  Ne'er  mind!  Up!  (A 
last  string  of  orders.)  Six  hundred, 
and  he  doesn't  see  us!     Fire!" 

The  dummy  left;  the  second  in 
command  cocked  one  ear  and  looked 
relieved.  Up  we  rose;  the  wet  air 
and  spray  spattered  through  the 
hatch;  the  destroyer  swung  off  to 
retrieve  the  dummy. 

"Careless  brutes  destroyers  are," 
said  one  officer.     "That  fellow  nearly 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      69 

walked  over  us  just  now.     Did  you 
notice?" 

The  commander  was  playing  his 
game  out  over  again — stroke  by 
stroke.  "With  a  beam-tube  I'd  ha' 
strafed  him  amidship,"  he  concluded. 

"Why  didn't  you  then.?"  I  asked. 

There  were  loads  of  shiny  reasons, 
which  reminded  me  that  we  were  at 
war  and  cleared  for  action,  and  that 
the  interlude  had  been  merely  play. 
A  companion  rose  alongside  and 
wanted  to  know  whether  we  had 
seen  anything  of  her  dummy. 

"No.  But  we  heard  it,"  was  the 
short  answer. 

I  was  rather  annoyed,  because  I 
had  seen  that  particular  daughter  of 
destruction  on  the  stocks  only  a  short 
time  ago,  and  here  she  was  grown  up 


70     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

and  talking  about  her  missing  chil- 
dren! 

In  the  harbour  again,  one  found 
more  submarines,  all  patterns  and 
makes  and  sizes,  with  rumours  of 
yet  more  and  larger  to  follow.  Nat- 
urally their  men  say  that  we  are  only 
at  the  beginning  of  the  submarine. 
We  shall  have  them  presently  for  all 
purposes. 

THE   MAJSr   AND   THE   WORK 

Now  here  is  a  mystery  of  the  Serv- 
ice. 

A  man  gets  a  boat  which  for  two 
years  becomes  his  very  self — 

His  morning  hope,  his  evening  dream. 
His  joy  throughout  the  day. 

With  him  is  a  second  in  command, 
an  engineer,  and  some  others.     They 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     71 

prove  each  other's  souls  habitually 
every  few  days,  by  the  direct  test  of 
peril,  till  they  act,  think,  and  endure 
as  a  unit,  in  and  with  the  boat.  That 
commander  is  transferred  to  another 
boat.  He  tries  to  take  with  him  if 
he  can,  which  he  can't,  as  many  of 
his  other  selves  as  possible.  He  is 
pitched  into  a  new  type  twice  the 
size  of  the  old  one,  with  three  times 
as  many  gadgets,  an  unexplored 
temperament  and  unknown  leanings. 
After  his  first  trip  he  comes  back 
clamouring  for  the  head  of  her  con- 
structor, of  his  own  second  in  com- 
mand, his  engineer,  his  cox,  and  a 
few  other  ratings.  They  for  their 
part  wish  him  dead  on  the  beach, 
because,  last  commission  with  So- 
and-so,    nothing    ever    went  wrong 


72      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

anywhere.  A  fortnight  later  you 
can  remind  the  commander  of  what 
he  said,  and  he  will  deny  every  word  of 
it.  She's  not,  he  says,  so  very  vile — 
things  considered,  barring  her  five- 
ton  torpedo-derricks,  the  abomina- 
tions of  her  wireless,  and  the  tropical 
temperature  of  her  beer-lockers.  All 
of  which  signifies  that  the  new  boat 
has  found  her  soul,  and  her  com- 
mander would  not  change  her  for 
battle-cruisers.  Therefore,  that  he 
may  remember  he  is  the  Service  and 
not  a  branch  of  it,  he  is  after  certain 
seasons  shifted  to  a  battle-cruiser, 
where  he  lives  in  a  blaze  of  admirals 
and  aiguillettes,  responsible  for  vast 
decks  and  crypt-like  fiats,  a  student 
of  extended  above-water  tactics, 
thinking    in    tens    of    thousands    of 


THE  FKINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  73 

yards  instead  of  his  modest  but  deadly 
three  to  twelve  hundred. 

And  the  man  who  takes  his  place 
straightway  forgets  that  he  ever 
looked  down  on  great  rollers  from  a 
sixty-foot  bridge  under  the  whole 
breadth  of  heaven,  but  crawls  and 
climbs  and  dives  through  conning- 
towers  with  those  same  waves  wet 
in  his  neck,  and  when  the  cruisers  pass 
him,  tearing  the  deep  open  in  half  a 
gale,  thanks  God  he  is  not  as  they 
are,  and  goes  to  bed  beneath  their 
distracted  keels. 


EXPERT    OPINIONS 

"But    submarine    work    is    cold- 
blooded business." 

(This  was  at  a  little  session  in  a 


74     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

green-curtained  "wardroom"  cum 
owner's  cabin.) 

"Then  there's  no  truth  in  the  yarn 
that  you  can  feel  when  the  torpedo's 
going  to  get  home?"  I  asked. 

"Not  a  word.  You  sometimes 
see  it  get  home,  or  miss,  as  the  case 
may  be.  Of  course,  it's  never  your 
fault  if  it  misses.  It's  all  your  second- 
in-command.  " 

"That's  true,  too,"  said  the  second. 
"I  catch  it  all  round.  That's  what 
I  am  here  for." 

"And  what  about  the  third  man?" 
There  was  one  aboard  at  the  time. 

"He  generally  comes  from  a  smaller 
boat,  to  pick  up  real  work — if  he  can 
suppress  his  intellect  and  doesn't 
talk  'last  commission.'" 

The  third   hand   promptly   denied 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     75 

the  possession  of  any  intellect,  and 
was  quite  dumb  about  his  last  boat. 

"And  the  men?" 

"They  train  on,  too.  They  train 
each  other.  Yes,  one  gets  to  know 
'em  about  as  well  as  they  get  to  know 
us.  Up  topside,  a  man  can  take  you 
in — take  himself  in — for  months;  for 
half  a  commission,  p'rhaps.  Down 
below  he  can't.  It's  all  in  cold  blood 
— not  like  at  the  front,  where  they 
have  something  exciting  all  the  time." 

"Then  bumping  mines  isn't  excit- 
ing?" 

"Not  one  little  bit.  You  can't 
bump    back   at    'em.     Even    with    a 


Zepp " 

"Oh,  now  and  then,"  one  inter- 
rupted, and  they  laughed  as  they 
explained. 


76      THE    FRINGES    OP    THE    FLEET 

"Yes,  that  was  rather  funny.  One 
of  our  boats  came  up  slap  underneath 
a  low  Zepp.  'Looked  for  the  sky, 
you  know,  and  couldn't  see  anything 
except  this  fat,  shining  belly  almost 
on  top  of  'em.  Luckily,  it  wasn't 
the  Zepp's  stingin'  end.  So  our  boat 
went  to  windward  and  kept  just 
awash.  There  was  a  bit  of  a  sea, 
and  the  Zepp  had  to  work  against  the 
wind.  (They  don't  like  that.)  Our 
boat  sent  a  man  to  the  gun.  He  was 
pretty  well  drowned,  of  course,  but 
he  hung  on,  choking  and  spitting,  and 
held  his  breath,  and  got  in  shots 
where  he  could.  This  Zepp  was 
strafing  bombs  about  for  all  she  was 
worth,  and — who  was  it? — Macart- 
ney, I  think,  potting  at  her  between 
dives;   and  naturally  all  hands  wanted 


THE   FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     77 

to  look  at  the  performance,  so  about 
half  the  North  Sea  flopped  down  be- 
low and — oh,  they  had  a  Charlie 
Chaplin  time  of  it!  Well,  somehow. 
Macartney  managed  to  rip  the  Zepp 
a  bit,  and  she  went  to  leeward  with  a 
list  on  her.  We  saw  her  a  fortnight 
later  with  a  patch  on  her  port  side. 
Oh,  if  Fritz  only  fought  clean,  this 
wouldn't  be  half  a  bad  show.  But 
Fritz  can't  fight  clean." 

"And  we  can't  do  what  he  does — 
even  if  we  were  allowed  to,"  one  said. 

"No,  we  can't.  'Tisn't  done.  We 
have  to  fish  Fritz  out  of  the  water, 
dry  him,  and  give  him  cocktails,  and 
send  him  to  Donnington  Hall." 

"And  what  does  Fritz  do?"  I 
asked. 

"He  sputters  and  clicks  and  bows. 


78      THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

He  has  all  the  correct  motions,  you 
know;  but,  of  course,  when  he's 
your  prisoner  you  can't  tell  him  what 
he  really  is." 

"And  do  you  suppose  Fritz  under- 
stands any  of  it?  "  I  went  on. 

"No.  Or  he  wouldn't  have  lusi- 
taniaed.  This  war  was  his  first 
chance  of  making  his  name,  and  he 
chucked  it  all  away  for  the  sake  of 
showin'  off  as  a  foul  Gottstrafer." 

And  they  talked  of  that  hour  of 
the  night  when  submarines  come  to 
the  top  like  mermaids  to  get  and 
give  information;  of  boats  whose 
business  it  is  to  fire  as  much  and  to 
splash  about  as  aggressively  as  pos- 
sible; and  of  other  boats  who  avoid 
any  sort  of  display — dumb  boats 
watching  and  relieving  watch,   with 


THE    FEINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     79 

their  periscope  just  showing  Hke  a 
crocodile's  eye,  at  the  back  of  islands 
and  the  mouths  of  channels  where 
something  may  some  day  move  out 
in  procession  to  its  doom. 


Be  well  assured  thai  on  our  side 
Our  challenged  oceans  fight. 
Though  headlong  wind  and  leaping  tide 

Make  us  their  sport  to-night. 
Through  force  of  weather,  not  of  war  ^ 

In  jeopardy  we  steer. 
Then  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  shall  appear 

How  in  all  time  of  our  distress 

As  in  our  triumph  too. 

The  game  is  more  than  the  player  of 

the  game. 
And  the  ship  is  more  than  the  crew  I 

Be  well  assured,  though  wave  and  vnnd 

Have  mightier  blows  in  store. 
That  we  who  keep  the  watch  assigned 

Must  stand  to  it  the  more; 
81 


82     THE    FRINGES    OF   THE    FLEET 

And  as  our  streaming  bows  dismiss 

Each  billow's  baulked  career. 
Sing  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  is  made  clear 

How  in  all  time  of  our  distress 

As  in  our  triumph  too. 

The  game  is  more  than  the  player  of 

the  game. 
And  the  ship  is  more  than  the  crew! 

Be  well  assured,  tlwugh  in  our  power 

Is  nothing  left  to  give 
But  time  and  place  to  meet  the  hour 

And  leave  to  strive  to  live. 
Till  these  dissolve  our  order  holds, 

Our  Service  binds  us  here. 
Then  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  is  made  clear 
How  in  all  time  of  our  distress 
And  our  deliverance  too. 
The  game  is  more  than  the  player  of 

the  game. 
And  the  ship  is  more  than  the  crew  I 


PATROLS 

On  the  edge  of  the  North  Sea  sits 
an  Admiral  in  charge  of  a  stretch  of 
coast  without  Hghts  or  marks,  along 
which  the  traflSc  moves  much  as 
usual.  In  front  of  him  there  is 
nothing  but  the  east  wind,  the  enemy, 
and  some  few  our  ships.  Behind 
him  there  are  towns,  with  M.  P.'s 
attached,  who  a  little  while  ago  didn't 
see  the  reason  for  certain  lighting 
orders.  When  a  Zeppelin  or  two 
came,  they  saw.  Left  and  right 
of  him  are  enormous  docks,  with  vast 
crowded  sheds,  miles  of  stone-faced 


84     THE    FRINGES   OF    THE    FLEET 

quay-edges,  loaded  with  all  manner 
of  supplies  and  crowded  with  mixed 
shipping. 

In  this  exalted  world  one  met  Staff- 
Captains,  Staff-Commanders,  Staff- 
Lieutenants,  and  Secretaries,  with 
Paymasters  so  senior  that  they  almost 
ranked  with  Admirals.  There  were 
Warrant  Officers,  too,  who  long  ago 
gave  up  splashing  about  decks  bare- 
foot, and  now  check  and  issue  stores 
to  the  ravenous,  untruthful  fleets. 
Said  one  of  these,  guarding  a  collec- 
tion of  desirable  things,  to  a  cross 
between  a  sick-bay  attendant  and  a 
junior  writer  (but  he  was  really  an 
expert  burglar),  "No!  An'  you  can 
tell  Mr.  So-and-so,  with  my  compli- 
ments, that  the  storekeeper's  gone 
away — right  away — with  the  key  of 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      85 

these  stores  in  his   pocket.     Under- 
stand me?     In  his  trousers  pocket." 

He  snorted  at  my  next  question. 

"Do  I  know  any  destroy er-looten- 
ants.'"  said  he.  "This  coast's  rank 
with  'em!  Destroyer-lootenants  are 
born  stealing.  It's  a  mercy  they's  too 
busy  to  practise  forgery,  or  I'd  be  in 
gaoL  Engineer-Commanders?  En- 
gineer-Lootenants?  They're  worse! 
Look  here!  If  my  own 
mother  was  to  come  to  me  beggin' 
brass  screws  for  her  own  coffin,  I'd 
— I'd  think  twice  before  I'd  obHge 
the  old  lady.  War's  war,  I  grant 
you  that;  but  what  I've  got  to  con- 
tend with  is  crime." 

I  referred  to  him  a  case  of  con- 
science in  which  every  one  concerned 
acted   exactly   as   he  should,  and  it 


86  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

nearly  ended  in  murder.  During  a 
lengthy  action,  the  working  of  a  gun 
was  hampered  by  some  empty  car- 
tridge cases  which  the  lieutenant  in 
charge  made  signs  (no  man  could  hear 
his  neighbour  speak  just  then)  should 
be  hove  overboard.  Upon  which  the 
gunner  rushed  forward  and  made  other 
signs  that  they  were  "on  charge," 
and  must  be  tallied  and  accounted 
for.  He,  too,  was  trained  in  a  strict 
school.  Upon  which  the  lieutenant, 
but  that  he  was  busy,  would  have 
slain  the  gunner  for  refusing  orders 
in  action.  Afterwards  he  wanted  him 
shot  by  court-martial.  But  every 
one  was  voiceless  by  then,  and  could 
only  mouth  and  croak  at  each  other, 
till  somebody  laughed,  and  the  pe- 
dantic gunner  was  spared. 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     87 

"Well,  that's  what  you  might 
fairly  call  a  naval  crux,"  said  my 
friend  among  the  stores.  "The  Loo- 
tenant  was  right.  'Mustn't  refuse 
orders  in  action.  The  Gunner  was 
right.  Empty  cases  are  on  charge. 
No  one  ought  to  chuck  'em  away 
that  way,  but  .  .  .  Damn  it, 
they  were  all  of  'em  right!  It  ought 
to  ha'  been  a  marine.  Then  they 
could  have  killed  him  and  preserved 
discipline  at  the  same  time." 

A   LITTLE   THEORY 

The  problem  of  this  coast  resolves 
itself  into  keeping  touch  with  the 
enemy's  movements;  in  preparing 
matters  to  trap  and  hinder  him  when 
he  moves,  and  in  so  entertaining  him 
that  he  shall  not  have  time  to  draw 


88     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

clear  before  a  blow  descends  on  him 
from  another  quarter.  There  are 
then  three  lines  of  defence:  the  outer, 
the  inner,  and  the  home  waters. 
The  traffic  and  fishing  are  always  with 
us. 

The  blackboard  idea  of  it  is  al- 
ways to  have  stronger  forces  more 
immediately  available  everywhere 
than  those  the  enemy  can  send,  x 
German  submarines  draw  a  English 
destroyers.  Then  x  calls  x-{-y  to  deal 
with  a,  who,  in  turn,  calls  up  6,  a 
scout,  and  possibly  a^,  with  a  fair 
chance  that  if  x-\-y-^z  (a  Zeppelin) 
carry  on  they  will  run  into  a^+fc^+c 
cruisers.  At  this  point,  the  equation 
generally  stops;  if  it  continued,  it 
would  end  mathematically  in  the 
whole  of  the  German  Fleet  coming 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      89 

out.  Then  another  factor  which  we 
may  call  the  Grand  Fleet  would 
come  from  another  place.  To  change 
the  comparisons:  the  Grand  Fleet 
is  the  "strong  left"  ready  to  give  the 
knockout  blow  on  the  point  of  the 
chin  when  the  head  is  thrown  up. 
The  other  fleets  and  other  arrange- 
ments threaten  the  enemy's  solar 
plexus  and  stomach.  Somewhere  in 
relation  to  the  Grand  Fleet  lies  the 
"blockading"  cordon  which  examines 
neutral  traffic.  It  could  be  drawn 
as  tight  as  a  Turkish  bowstring,  but 
for  reasons  which  we  may  arrive  at 
after  the  war,  it  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  so  drawn  up  to  date. 

The  enemy  lies  behind  his  mines, 
and  ours,  raids  our  coasts  when  he 
sees    a    chance,    and    kills    seagoing 


90     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

civilians  at  sight  or  guess,  with  intent 
to  terrify.  Most  sailor-men  are 
mixed  up  with  a  woman  or  two;  a 
fair  percentage  of  them  have  seen 
men  drown.  They  can  realize  what 
it  is  when  women  go  down  choking  in 
horrible  tangles  and  heavings  of  dra- 
peries. To  say  that  the  enemy  has  cut 
himself  from  the  fellowship  of  all  who 
use  the  seas  is  rather  understating 
the  case.  As  a  man  observed 
thoughtfully:  "You  can't  look  at 
any  water  now  without  seeing  'Lusi- 
tania'  sprawlin'  all  across  it.  And 
just  think  of  those  words,  'North- 
German  Lloyd j'  '  Hamburg- Amerika ' 
and  such  things,  in  the  time  to  come. 
They  simply  mustn't  be." 

He    was    an    elderly    trawler,    re- 
spectable as  they  make  them,  who, 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     91 

after  many  years  of  fishing,  had  dis- 
covered his  real  vocation,  "I  never 
thought  I'd  Hke  kilKn'  men,"  he 
reflected.  "Never  seemed  to  be  any 
o'  my  dooty.  But  it  is — and  I 
do!" 

A  great  deal  of  the  East  Coast 
work  concerns  mine-fields — ours  and 
the  enemy's — both  of  which  shift 
as  occasion  requires.  We  search  for 
and  root  out  the  enemy's  mines;  they 
do  the  like  by  us.  It  is  a  perpetual 
game  of  finding,  springing,  and  laying 
traps  on  the  least  as  well  as  the  most 
likely  runaways  that  ships  use — such 
sea  snaring  and  wiring  as  the  world 
never  dreamt  of.  We  are  hampered 
in  this,  because  our  Navy  respects 
neutrals;  and  spends  a  great  deal  of 
its  time  in   making  their  path  safe 


92     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

for  them.  The  enemy  does  not. 
He  blows  them  up,  because  that  ccws 
and  impresses  them,  and  so  adds  to 
his  prestige. 

DEATH    AND    THE    DESTROYER 

The  easiest  way  of  finding  a  mine- 
field is  to  steam  into  it,  on  the  edge  of 
night  for  choice,  with  a  steep  sea  run- 
ning, for  that  brings  the  bows  down 
like  a  chopper  on  the  detonating- 
horns.  Some  boats  have  enjoyed 
this  experience  and  still  live.  There 
was  one  destroyer  (and  there  may 
have  been  others  since)  who  came 
through  twenty-four  hours  of  highly 
compressed  life.  She  had  an  idea  that 
there  was  a  mine-field  somewhere 
about,  and  left  her  companions  be- 
hind      while      she      explored.     The 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      93 

weather  was  dead  calm,  and  she 
walked  delicately.  She  saw  one 
Scandinavian  steamer  blow  up  a 
couple  of  miles  away,  rescued  the 
skipper  and  some  hands ;  saw  another 
neutral,  which  she  could  not  reach 
till  all  was  over,  skied  in  another 
direction;  and,  between  her  life- 
saving  efforts  and  her  natural  curi- 
osity, got  herself  as  thoroughly  mixed 
up  with  the  field  as  a  camel  among 
tent-ropes.  A  destroyer's  bows  are 
very  fine,  and  her  sides  are  very 
straight.  This  causes  her  to  cleave 
the  wave  with  the  minimum  of  dis- 
turbance, and  this  boat  had  no  desire 
to  cleave  anything  else.  None  the 
less,  from  time  to  time,  she  heard  a 
mine  grate,  or  tinkle,  or  jar  (I  could 
not    arrive    at    the    precise    note    it 


94  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

strikes,  but  they  say  it  is  unpleasant) 
on  her  plates.  Sometimes  she  would 
be  free  of  them  for  a  long  while,  and 
began  to  hope  she  was  clear.  At  other 
times  they  were  numerous,  but  when 
at  last  she  seemed  to  have  worried  out 
of  the  danger  zone,  lieutenant  and 
sub  together  left  the  bridge  for  a  cup 
of  tea.  ("In  those  days  we  took 
mines  very  seriously,  you  know.") 
As  they  were  in  act  to  drink,  they 
heard  the  hateful  sound  again  just 
outside  the  wardroom.  Both  put 
their  cups  down  with  extreme  care, 
little  fingers  extended  ("We  felt  as 
if  they  might  blow  up,  too"),  and  tip- 
toed on  deck,  where  they  met  the 
foc'sle  also  on  tip-toe.  They  pulled 
themselves  together,  and  asked 
severely  what  the  foc'sle  thought  it 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET     95 

was  doing.  "Beg  pardon,  sir,  but 
there's  another  of  those  blighters 
tap-tapping  alongside,  our  end." 
They  all  waited  and  listened  to  their 
common  coflBn  being  nailed  by  Death 
himself.  But  the  things  bumped 
away.  At  this  point  they  thought 
it  only  decent  to  invite  the  rescued 
skipper,  warm  and  blanketed  in  one 
of  their  bunks,  to  step  up  and  do  any 
further  perishing  in  the  open. 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  he.  "Last 
time  I  was  blown  up  in  my  bunk,  too. 
That  was  all  right.  So  I  think,  now, 
too,  I  stay  in  my  bunk  here.  It  is 
cold  upstairs." 

Somehow  or  other  they  got  out  of 
the  mess  after  all.  "Yes,  we  used  to 
take  mines  awfully  seriously  in  those 
days.     One  comfort  is,  Fritz'U  take 


96     THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET 

them  seriously  when  he  comes  out. 
Fritz  don't  like  mines." 

"  Who  does?  "     I  wanted  to  know. 

"If  you'd  been  here  a  little  while 
ago,  you'd  seen  a  Commander  comin' 
in  with  a  big  'un  slung  under  his 
counter.  He  brought  the  beastly 
thing  in  to  analyse.  The  rest  of  his 
squadron  followed  at  two-knot  inter- 
vals, and  everything  in  harbour  that 
had  steam  up  scattered." 

THE    ADMIRABLE    COMMANDER 

Presently  I  had  the  honour  to  meet 
a  Lieutenant-Commander-Admiral 
who  had  retired  from  the  service,  but, 
like  others,  had  turned  out  again  at 
the  first  flash  of  the  guns,  and  now 
commands— he  who  had  great  ships 
erupting  at  his  least  signal — a  squad- 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  97 

ron  of  trawlers  for  the  protection  of 
the  Dogger  Bank  Fleet.  At  present 
prices — let  alone  the  chance  of  the 
paying  submarine — men  would  fish 
in  much  w^armer  places.  His  flagship 
is  a  multi-millionaire's  private  yacht. 
In  her  mixture  of  stark,  carpetless, 
curtainless,  carbolised  present  with 
voluptuously  curved,  broad-decked, 
easy-stairwayed  past,  she  might  be 
Queen  Guinevere  in  the  convent  at 
Amesbury.  And  her  Lieutenant- 
Commander,  most  careful  to  pay  all 
due  compliments  to  Admirals  who 
were  midshipmen  when  he  was  a 
Commander,  leads  a  congregation  of 
very  hard  men  indeed.  They  do 
precisely  what  he  tells  them  to,  and 
with  him  go  through  strange  ex- 
periences, because  they  love  him  and 


98   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

because  his  language  is  volcanic  and 
wonderful — what  you  might  call 
Popocatapocalyptic.  I  saw  the  Old 
Navy  making  ready  to  lead  out  the 
New  under  a  grey  sky  and  a  falling 
glass — the  wisdom  and  cunning  of 
the  old  man  backed  up  by  the  passion 
and  power  of  the  younger  breed,  and 
the  discipline  which  had  been  his  soul 
for  half  a  century  binding  them  all, 

"What'll  he  do  this  time?"  I  asked 
of  one  who  might  know. 

"He'll  cruise  between  Two  and 
Three  East ;  but  if  you'll  tell  me  what  he 
won't  do,  it  'ud  be  more  to  the  point ! 
He'smine-hunting,  I  expect,  just  now." 

WASTED    MATERIAL 

Here  is  a  digression  suggested  by 
the  sight  of  a  man  I  had  known  in 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  99 

other  scenes,  despatch-riding  round  a 
fleet  in  a  petrol-launch.  There  are 
many  of  his  type,  yachtsmen  of  sorts 
accustomed  to  take  chances,  who  do 
not  hold  master's  certificates  and 
cannot  be  given  sea-going  commands. 
Like  my  friend,  they  do  general 
utility — often  in  their  own  boats. 
This  is  a  waste  of  good  material. 
Nobody  wants  amateur  navigators — 
the  traffic  lanes  are  none  too  wide 
as  it  is.  But  these  gentlemen  ought 
to  be  distributed  among  the  Trawler 
Fleet  as  strictly  combatant  officers. 
A  trawler  skipper  may  be  an  excel- 
lent seaman,  but  slow  with  a  sub- 
marine shelling  and  diving,  or  in 
cutting  out  enemy  trawlers.  The 
young  ones  who  can  master  Q.  F.  work 
in  a  very  short  time  would — though 


100   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

there  might  be  friction,  a  court- 
martial  or  two,  and  probably  losses  at 
first — pay  for  their  keep.  Even  a 
hundred  or  so  of  amateurs,  more  or 
less  controlled  by  their  squadron 
commanders,  would  make  a  happy 
beginning,  and  I  am  sure  they  would 
all  be  extremely  grateful. 


Where  the  East  wind  is  breived  fresh  and 
fresh  every  morning. 
And  the  balmy  night-breezes  blow  straight 
from  the  Pole, 
I  heard  a  destroyer  sing:  "  What  an  enjoya- 
ble life  does  one  lead  on  the  North  Sea 
Patrol ! 


"  To  blow  things  to  bits  is  our  business  {and 
Fritzs), 
Which  means  there  are  mine-fields  wher- 
ever yon  stroll. 

Unless  you've  particular  wish  to  die  quick 
you  II  avoid  steering  close  to  the  North 
Sea  Patrol. 

101 


102     THE   FRINGES   OF   THE   FLEET 

"We  warn  from  disaster   the  mercantile 
master 
Who  takes  in  high  dudgeon   our   life- 
saving  role, 
For  every  one's  grousing  at  docking  and 
dowsing 
The  marks  and  the  lights  on  the  North 
Sea  Patrol" 

[Twelve  verses  omitted.] 

So  swept  but  surviving,  half  drovmed  but 
still  driving, 
I  watched  her  head  out  through  the  swell 
off  the  shoal. 
And  I  heard  her  propellers  roar:  *' Write 
to  poor  fellers 
Who  run  such  a  Hell  as  the  North  Sea 
Patrol!" 


II 

PATROLS 

The  great  basins  were  crammed 
with  craft  of  kinds  never  known  before 
on  any  Navy  List.  Some  were  as 
they  were  born,  others  had  been 
converted,  and  a  multitude  have 
been  designed  for  special  cases.  The 
Navy  prepares  against  all  contin- 
gencies by  land,  sea,  and  air.  It  was 
a  relief  to  meet  a  batch  of  compre- 
hensible destroyers  and  to  drop  again 
into  the  little  mouse-trap  wardrooms, 
which  are  as  large-hearted  as  all  our 
oceans.  The  men  one  used  to  know 
as  destroyer-lieutenants  ("born  steal- 

103 


104      THE    FRINGES    OP^    THE   FLEET 

ing")  are  serious  Commanders  and 
Captains  to-day,  but  their  sons,  Lieu- 
tenants in  command  and  Lieutenant- 
Commanders,  do  follow  them.  The 
sea  in  peace  is  a  hard  life;  war  only 
sketches  an  extra  line  or  two  round 
the  young  mouths.  The  routine  of 
ships  always  ready  for  action  is  so 
part  of  the  blood  now  that  no  one 
notices  anything  except  the  absence 
of  formality  and  of  the  "crimes"  of 
peace.  What  Warrant  Officers  used 
to  say  at  length  is  cut  down  to  a 
grunt.  What  the  sailor-man  did  not 
know  and  expected  to  have  told  him, 
does  not  exist.  He  has  done  it  all  too 
often  at  sea  and  ashore. 

I  watched  a  little  party   working 
under  a  leading  hand  at  a  job  which, 
eighteen    months    ago,    would    have 
I 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      105 

required  a  Gunner  In  charge.  It  was 
comic  to  see  his  orders  trying  to  over- 
take the  execution  of  them.  Rat- 
ings coming  aboard  carried  them- 
selves with  a  (to  me)  new  swing — 
not  swank,  but  consciousness  of 
adequacy.  The  high,  dark  foc'sles 
which,  thank  goodness,  are  only 
washed  twice  a  week,  received  them 
and  their  bags,  and  they  turned-to 
on  the  instant  as  a  man  piclvs  up 
his  life  at  home.  Like  the  submarine 
crew  they  come  to  be  a  breed  apart 
— double-jointed,  extra-toed,  with 
brazen  bowels  and  no  sort  of  nerves. 

It  is  the  same  in  the  engine-room, 
when  the  ships  come  in  for  their 
regular  looking-over.  Those  who  love 
them,  which  you  would  never  guess 
from    the    language,    know    exactly 


106     THE   FRINGES   OF   THE   FLEET 

what  they  need,  and  get  it  without 
fuss.  Everything  that  steams  has 
her  individual  pecuHarity,  and  the 
great  thing  is,  at  overhaul,  to  keep  to 
it  and  not  develop  a  new  one.  If, 
for  example,  through  some  trick  of 
her  screws  not  synchronising,  a  de- 
stroyer always  casts  to  port  when  she 
goes  astern,  do  not  let  any  zealous 
soul  try  to  make  her  run  true,  or  you 
will  have  to  learn  her  helm  all  over 
again.  And  it  is  vital  that  you 
should  know  exactly  what  your  ship 
is  going  to  do  three  seconds  before 
she  does  it.  Similarly  with  men. 
If  any  one,  from  Lieutenant-Com- 
mander to  stoker,  changes  his  per- 
sonal trick  or  habit — even  the  manner 
in  which  he  clutches  his  chin  or 
caresses    his    nose    at    a    crisis — the 


THE   FRINGES   OF   THE   FLEET      107 

matter  must  be  carefully  considered 
in  this  world  where  each  is  trustee  for 
his  neighbour's  life  and,  vastly  more 
important,  the  corporate  honour. 

*'What  are  the  destroyers  doing 
just  now?"  I  asked. 

*'0h — running  about — much  the 
same  as  usual." 

The  Navy  hasn't  the  least  objec- 
tion to  telling  one  everything  that 
it  is  doing.  Unfortunately,  it  speaks 
its  own  language,  which  is  incom- 
prehensible to  the  civilian.  But 
you  will  find  it  all  in  "The  Channel 
PUot"  and  "The  Riddle  of  the 
Sands." 

It  is  a  foul  coast,  hairy  with  cur- 
rents and  rips,  and  mottled  with 
shoals  and  rocks.  Practically  the 
same  men  hold  on  here  in  the  same 


108  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

ships,  with  much  the  same  crews, 
for  months  and  months.  A  most 
senior  officer  told  me  that  they 
were  "good  boys" — on  reflection, 
"quite  good  boys" — but  neither  he 
nor  the  flags  on  his  chart  explained 
how  they  managed  their  lightless, 
unmarked  navigations  through  black 
night,  blinding  rain,  and  the  crazy, 
rebounding  North  Sea  gales.  They 
themselves  ascribe  it  to  Joss  that 
they  have  not  piled  up  their  ships 
a  hundred  times. 

"I  expect  it  must  be  because  we're 
always  dodging  about  over  the  same 
ground.  One  gets  to  smell  it.  We've 
bumped  pretty  hard,  of  course,  but 
we  haven't  expended  much  up  to 
date.  You  never  know  your  luck 
on  patrol,  though." 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  109 
THE  NATURE  OF  THE  BEAST 

Personally,  though  they  have  been 
true  friends  to  me,  I  loathe  destroyers, 
and  all  the  raw,  racking,  ricochet- 
ting  life  that  goes  with  them — the 
smell  of  the  wet  "lammies"  and  damp 
wardroom  cushions;  the  galley- 
chimney  smoking  out  the  bridge;  the 
obstacle-strewn  deck;  and  the  per- 
vading beastliness  of  oil,  grit,  and 
greasy  iron.  Even  at  moorings  they 
shiver  and  sidle  like  half-backed 
horses.  At  sea  they  will  neither 
rise  up  and  fly  clear  like  the  hydro- 
planes, nor  dive  and  be  done  with 
it  like  the  submarines,  but  imitate 
the  vices  of  both.  A  scientist  of  the 
lower  deck  describes  them  as:  "Half 
switchback,    half    water-chute,    and 


110   THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

Hell  continuous."  Their  only  merit, 
from  a  landsman's  point  of  view,  is 
that  they  can  crumple  themselves  up 
from  stem  to  bridge  and  (I  have  seen 
it)  still  get  home.  But  one  does  not 
breathe  these  compliments  to  their 
commanders.  Other  destroyers  may 
be — they  will  point  them  out  to  you 
— poisonous  bags  of  tricks,  but  their 
own  command — never!  Is  she  high- 
bowed.'*  That  is  the  only  type  which 
over-rides  the  seas  instead  of  smother- 
ing. Is  she  low?  Low  bows  glide 
through  the  water  where  those  collier- 
nosed  brutes  smash  it  open.  Is  she 
mucked  up  with  submarine-catchers.'' 
They  rather  improve  her  trim.  No 
other  ship  has  them.  Have  they 
been  denied  to  her?  Thank  Heaven, 
we  go  to  sea  without  a  fish-curing 


THE   FRINGES   OF   THE   FLEET      111 

plant  on  deck.  Does  she  roll,  even 
for  her  class?  She  is  drier  than 
Dreadnoughts.  Is  she  permanently 
and  infernally  wet.'  Stiff,  sir — stiff: 
the  first  requisite  of  a  gun-platform. 

"service  as  requisite" 

Thus  the  Csesars  and  their  fortunes 
put  out  to  sea  with  their  subs  and 
their  sad-eyed  engineers,  and  their 
long-suffering  signallers — I  do  not 
even  know  the  technical  name  of  the 
sin  which  causes  a  man  to  be  born  a 
destroyer-signaller  in  this  life — and 
the  little  yellow  shells  stuck  all  about 
where  they  can  be  easiest  reached. 
The  rest  of  their  acts  is  written  for 
the  information  of  the  proper  au- 
thorities. It  reads  like  a  page  of 
Todhunter.       But    the    masters    of 


112  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

merchant-ships  could  tell  more  of 
eyeless  shapes,  barely  outlined  on  the 
foam  of  their  own  arrest,  who  shout 
orders  through  the  thick  gloom  along- 
side. The  strayed  and  anxious 
neutral  knows  them  when  their 
searchlights  pin  him  across  the  deep, 
or  their  syrens  answer  the  last  yelp 
of  his  as  steam  goes  out  of  his  tor- 
pedoed boilers.  They  stand  by  to 
catch  and  soothe  him  in  his  pyjamas 
at  the  gangway,  collect  his  scattered 
lifeboats,  and  see  a  warm  drink  into 
him  before  they  turn  to  hunt  the 
slayer.  The  drifters,  punching  and 
reeling  up  and  down  their  ten-mile 
line  of  traps;  the  outer  trawlers, 
drawing  the  very  teeth  of  Death  with 
water-sodden  fingers,  are  grateful  for 
their  low,  guarded  signals;   and  when 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE    FLEET      113 

the  Zeppelin's  revealing  star-shell 
cracks  darkness  open  above  him,  the 
answering  crack  of  the  invincible 
destroyers'  guns  comforts  the  busy 
mine-layers.  Big  cruisers  talk  to 
them,  too;  and,  what  is  more,  they 
talk  back  to  the  cruisers.  Some- 
times they  draw  fire — pinkish  spurts 
of  light — a  long  way  off,  where  Fritz 
is  trying  to  coax  them  over  a  mine- 
field he  has  just  laid;  or  they  steal 
on  Fritz  in  the  midst  of  his  job,  and 
the  horizon  rings  with  barking,  which 
the  inevitable  neutral  who  saw  it  all 
reports  as  "a  heavy  fleet  action  in 
the  North  Sea."  The  sea  after  dark 
can  be  as  alive  as  the  woods  of  sum- 
mer nights.  Everything  is  exactly 
where  you  don't  expect  it,  and  the 
shyest  creatures  are  the  farthest  away 


114  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

from  their  holes.  Things  boom  over- 
head like  bitterns,  or  scutter  along- 
side like  hares,  or  arise  dripping  and 
hissing  from  below  like  otters.  It 
is  the  destroyers'  business  to  find  out 
what  their  business  may  be  through 
all  the  long  night,  and  to  help  or 
hinder  accordingly.  Dawn  sees  them 
pitch-poling  insanely  between  head- 
seas,  or  hanging  on  to  bridges  that 
sweep  like  scythes  from  one  forlorn 
horizon  to  the  other.  A  homeward- 
bound  submarine  chooses  this  hour 
to  rise,  very  ostentatiously,  and  sig- 
nals by  hand  to  a  lieutenant  in  com- 
mand. (They  were  the  same  term  at 
Dartmouth,  and  same  first  ship.) 

"What's  he  sayin'?  Secure  that 
gun,  will  you.f^  'Can't  hear  oneself 
speak."     The  gun  is  a  bit  noisy  on 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET  115 

its  cone,  but  that  isn't  the  reason  for 
the  destroyer-lieutenant's  short  tem- 
per. 

"Says  he's  goin'  down,  sir,"  the 
signaller  replies.  What  the  sub- 
marine had  spelt  out,  and  everybody 
knows  it,  was:  "Cannot  approve  of 
this  extremely  frightful  weather.  Am 
going  to  bye-bye." 

"Well!"  snaps  the  lieutenant  to 
his  signaller,  "what  are  you  grinning 
at.'*"  The  submarine  has  hung  on 
to  ask  if  the  destroyer  will  "kiss  her 
and  whisper  good-night."  A  break- 
ing sea  smacks  her  tower  in  the 
middle  of  the  insult.  She  closes  like 
an  oyster,  but — just  too  late.  Hahet ! 
There  must  be  a  quarter  of  a  ton  of 
water  somewhere  down  below,  on  its 
way  to  her  ticklish  batteries, 


116  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

"What  a  wag!"  says  the  signaller, 
dreamily.  "Well,  'e  can't  say  'e 
didn't  get  'is  little  kiss." 

The  lieutenant  in  command  smiles. 
The  sea  is  a  beast,  but  a  just  beast. 

RACIAL   UNTRUTHS 

This  is  trivial  enough,  but  what 
would  you  have?  If  Admirals  will 
not  strike  the  proper  attitudes,  nor 
lieutenants  emit  the  appropriate  sen- 
timents, one  is  forced  back  on  the 
truth,  which  is  that  the  men  at  the 
heart  of  great  matters  in  our  Em- 
pire are  mostly  of  an  even  simplicity. 
From  the  advertising  point  of  view 
they  are  stupid,  but  the  breed  has 
always  been  stupid  in  this  depart^ 
ment.  It  may  be  due,  as  our  enemies 
assert,  to  our  racial  snobbery,  or,  as 


THE   FRINGES   OF   THE   FLEET     lit 

others  hold,  to  a  certain  God-given 
lack  of  imagination  which  saves  us 
from  being  over-concerned  at  the 
effects  of  our  appearances  on  others. 
Either  way,  it  deceives  the  enemies' 
people  more  than  any  calculated  lie. 
\Mien  you  come  to  think  of  it,  though 
the  English  are  the  worst  paper- 
work and  viva  voce  liars  in  the  world, 
they  have  been  rigorously  trained 
since  their  early  youth  to  live  and 
act  lies  for  the  comfort  of  the  society 
in  which  they  move,  and  so  for  their 
own  comfort.  The  result  in  this 
war  is  interesting. 

It  is  no  lie  that  at  the  present 
moment  we  hold  all  the  seas  in  the 
hollow  of  our  hands.  For  that  reason 
we  shuffle  over  them  shame-faced 
and  apologetic,  making  arrangements 


118  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

here  and  flagrant  compromises  there, 
in  order  to  give  substance  to  the 
lie  that  we  have  dropped  fortuitously 
into  this  high  seat  and  are  looking 
round  the  world  for  some  one  to 
resign  it  to.  Nor  is  it  any  lie  that, 
had  we  used  the  Navy's  bare  fist 
instead  of  its  gloved  hand  from  the 
beginning,  we  could  in  all  likelihood 
have  shortened  the  war.  That  being 
so,  we  elected  to  dab  and  peck  at 
and  half-strangle  the  enemy,  to  let 
him  go  and  choke  him  again.  It  is 
no  lie  that  we  continue  on  our  inex- 
plicable path  animated,  we  will  try 
to  believe  till  other  proof  is  given, 
by  a  cloudy  idea  of  alleviating  or 
mitigating  something  for  somebody 
— not  ourselves.  [Here,  of  course, 
is  where  our  racial  snobbery  comes 


THE    FRINGES    OF    THE   FLEET      119 

in,  which  makes  the  German  gibber. 
I  cannot  understand  why  he  has  not 
accused  us  to  our  AlHes  of  having 
secret  commercial  understandings 
with  him.]  For  that  reason,  we  shall 
finish  the  German  eagle  as  the  mer- 
ciful lady  killed  the  chicken.  It 
took  her  the  whole  afternoon,  and 
then,  you  will  remember,  the  carcase 
had  to  be  thrown  away. 

Meantime,  there  is  a  large  and 
unlovely  water,  inhabited  by  plain 
men  in  severe  boats,  who  endure 
cold,  exposure,  wet,  and  monotony 
almost  as  heavy  as  their  respon- 
sibilities. Charge  them  with  heroism 
— but  that  needs  heroism,  indeed! 
Accuse  them  of  patriotism,  they 
become  ribald.  Examine  into  the 
records  of  the  miraculous  work  they 


120  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

have  done  and  are  doing.  They 
will  assist  you,  but  with  perfect 
sincerity  they  will  make  as  light 
of  the  valour  and  forethought  shown 
as  of  the  ends  they  have  gained  for 
mankind.  The  Service  takes  all  work 
for  granted.  It  knew  long  ago  that 
certain  things  would  have  to  be 
done,  and  it  did  its  best  to  be  ready 
for  them.  When  it  disappeared  over 
the  sky-line  for  manoeuvres  it  was 
practising — always  practising;  trying 
its  men  and  stuff  and  throwing  out 
what  could  not  take  the  strain. 
That  is  why,  when  war  came,  only 
a  few  names  had  to  be  changed, 
and  those  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  the 
body,  not  of  the  spirit.  And  the 
Seniors  who  hold  the  key  to  our 
plans  and  know  what  will  be  done 


THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET   121 

if  things  happen,  and  what  links 
wear  thin  in  the  many  chains,  they 
are  of  one  fibre  and  speech  with  the 
Juniors  and  the  lower  deck  and  all 
the  rest  who  come  out  of  the  un- 
demonstrative households  ashore. 
"Here  is  the  situation  as  it  exists 
now,"  say  the  Seniors.  "This  is 
what  we  do  to  meet  it.  Look  and 
count  and  measure  and  judge  for 
yourself,  and  then  you  will  know." 

It  is  a  safe  offer.  The  civilian 
only  sees  that  the  sea  is  a  vast  place, 
divided  between  wisdom  and  chance. 
He  only  knows  that  the  uttermost 
oceans  have  been  swept  clear,  and 
the  trade-routes  purged,  one  by  one, 
even  as  our  armies  were  being  con- 
voyed along  them;  that  there  was  no 
island  nor  key  left  unsearched  on  any 


122  THE  FRINGES  OF  THE  FLEET 

waters  that  might  hide  an  enemy's 
craft  between  the  Arctic  Circle  and 
the  Horn.  He  only  knows  that  less 
than  a  day's  run  to  the  eastward  of 
where  he  stands,  the  enemy's  fleets 
have  been  held  for  a  year  and  four 
months,  in  order  that  civilization 
may  go  about  its  business  on  all  our 
waters. 


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